Thank special teachers in your life while you have chance (GUEST COLUMN)

Saturday

Oct 29, 2011 at 12:01 AMOct 29, 2011 at 11:00 PM

As I turned to page 7A of the evening newspaper, I saw a somewhat familiar face. Mrs. Barron had passed away. While the face was only vaguely familiar, I couldn't miss the smile.

BEVERLY GERBER

As I turned to page 7A of the evening newspaper, I saw a somewhat familiar face. Mrs. Barron had passed away. While the face was only vaguely familiar, I couldn't miss the smile.

Mrs. Barron was my home economics teacher at Ida. Most likely it was the standard expectation during that time in the world as a new, young teacher, but still Betty Barron was the epitome of a lady. She came to school each day dressed impeccably — her skirts or dresses the perfect length, and modest blouses always tucked in. She had the tiniest waist and a perfect, petite figure. Always so poised.

I am sure the lessons she taught were from a standard curriculum. Waaay back then, we had a "personal" discussion time (probably would have been know as sex ed today, but the word "sex" never would have been allowed). At the start of the class, we were instructed to put any questions we had in a small box on her desk. At the appointed moment, we all would gather our chairs in a semi circle and Mrs. Barron would quietly and solemnly shut the classroom door. I always got the feeling that she rather would have been home with a kidney stone than be required to teach this part of the curriculum, but she never would have gone against the master plan.

She would reach her perfectly manicured hand into the box and pull out one of our questions. We would watch her face and hold our breath to hear what the question would be. Now, remember this was a bunch of girls in the 1960s writing the questions; how anyone (who was older than 30) could think this would go without a hitch was beyond me.

I admit that looking back I feel a little bad about stacking the box with some pretty risky questions. We would watch as she would withdraw the slip of paper, read the question and then give us her answer.

Time always seemed to run out on the day's lesson just as we were sure she would draw one of our questionable questions. She was on to us. This went on all year and only once did she actually broach the subject of "relations." She said, "Never marry someone whose toothbrush you wouldn't use." As much as we anticipated the snickers that would follow her drawing out our questions, we all loved Mrs. Barron.

We were enlightened on deodorant, shaving our legs and under our arms. Pretty risky conversation back then. We were told how to properly sit with our legs crossed at our ankles and enlightened to the skill of walking with a purse. This was when we, as students, were carrying bag-like purses made of an old quilt or hemp and wearing Go-Go boots, but still she pressed on. A lady always carried her purse on her wrist with her elbow tucked at her waist, or it could be carried somewhere between her wrist and elbow if her hands were full.

She would go through the halls of Ida with her high heels clicking on the tile floor and her purse dangling from her wrist with her finger tips facing upward. I was duly impressed. Not that we intended to follow her lead in the '60s, but she was an impressive sight. She wore minimal makeup, but she didn't need more. She was beautiful.

While we were using the ironing board to iron our hair, in an attempt to get the perfect London look, she had a perfect cut and a hair was never out of place. Mrs. Barron could crawl under a sewing machine cabinet to plug it in and come out just as intact as when she went under.

I have a feeling Mrs. Barron was a romantic at heart. She would listen to us talk about our latest crushes and smile knowingly. She would give us hugs (yes, back then it was okay to give a student a hug) when it all fell apart, which, for a group of young, in-love teen girls, happened pretty often.

One of my favorite memories of being in Mrs. Barron's class was when one of the students, in our senior year, was engaged to a recent Ida graduate who had joined the service. One day he just had arrived, was home on leave and had come to our home ec room to surprise his fiancée. Mrs. Barron had him hide in the closet. When the girl came to class, Mrs. Barron asked her to go to the closet on the pretense of getting something, and there he stood. There was much gushing and tears on our part — and might I add envy — as her very handsome beau stood there in his uniform. Mrs. Barron told the couple that they could have the rest of the class time to visit.

Under her direction, we learned to cook, clean, mend seams and hearts ... and so much more.Sometimes it felt like we were sitting at the knees of the great guru of life, when in fact after reading her obituary I am reminded that she was just as human as the rest of us. Mrs. Barron had another life. She had a dog named Buffy, was a daughter, mother, wife, sister and the 1951 University of Toledo homecoming queen.

I regret that I never told her how much I appreciated her being the wonderful teacher and mentor she was to so many of us. I hope every student takes time to appreciate and thank the "Mrs. Barron" in his or her life.

Beverly Gerber lives in LaSalle Township.

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